


Grey Area: Book l- Exodus

by InquiryFoxtrot



Series: Grey Area [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angel Roman, Demon Virgil, Logan and Patton are humans, M/M, Medium Logan, Miracle Patton, fallen angel AU, only lamp are main chars, the others do make an appearance though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 21:22:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InquiryFoxtrot/pseuds/InquiryFoxtrot
Summary: Virgil had retired centuries ago. He knew that, his flock knew that, hell, even those Upstairs knew. He was just trying to live a quiet life, well as quiet a life as you can get being friends with a terribly oblivious and extremely powerful medium, Logan Williams, and Patton Sanders, local ghost hunter with a certain knack for only dragging Virgil to the actual haunted houses.But when foes, both new and old, threaten to destroy his comforting new reality Virgil realized the only way to fix things was to do the one thing he swore he'd never do again, talk to the man responsible for all his pain in the first place, his brother.





	Grey Area: Book l- Exodus

At first glance, you’d guess that Virgil would be the most likely believe in ghosts. He seemed to give off that sort of vibe, the vagrant youth and suspected satanist kind of deal. His whole aesthetic looked like it had been pulled straight from a shitty, vampire erotica novel and his general state of living looked like a Criminal Minds episode waiting to happen. His clothes were all black, he wore intense makeup, listened to harsh music, and in general seemed like the “creepy ghosts and demons voodoo” type of guy. At least, that’s what his friends always said when they were describing him, much to Virgil’s chagrin. Because, in all actuality, Virgil would deny the existence of the supernatural until his dying day.

He’d heard all the arguments, seen all the evidence, he’d watched all four seasons of Buzzfeed Unsolved with Logan at least three times, but no matter what proof he saw he’d still look Patton dead in the eyes and say he didn’t believe the supernatural.

Especially demons and all the other religious mojo that Patton talked about endlessly. He could sometimes concede that ghosts made sense, the possibility of your soul getting lost on the way to the great beyond could sway him a little bit, although he mainly just found the idea funny. It soothed him in a way to know that people were just as dumb after death as they were in real life. But demons? Nope, nada, never in a million years would Virgil admit to the possibility of demons.

“Entire entities focused on making human lives miserable?” Virgil had asked Patton during one of their many disagreements. “I mean, I relate, but that just seems a bit much. I doubt anyone is that bitter or has that much energy. Besides, isn’t it a bit egotistical to assume we’re the center of everyone’s attention?” He’d asked, rolling his eyes.

He was even less keen on talking about angels. He’d grumble and scowl at the mere mention of them. He groveled that if angels existed, why hadn’t they released him from this horrid plane of existence? Which was only partially a joke, much to Patton and Logan’s dismay. He claimed that if demons weren’t real angels couldn’t be either and he’d stick to that belief until the day he died- and probably a little while after that too. But something was always off when Patton mentioned the supernatural to him, Patton thought he was against the supernatural to an almost obsessive degree, he’d never met a non-believer as intense as his best friend. It almost seemed like he was deflecting. And that’s what kept his stubbornness fueled.

See, Patton, on the other hand, loved everything supernatural related. Logan had entertained to him the thought to him once in college. One of a whole other plane of existence simultaneously living with this one. The two had been lying half awake, slumped over their desks after a grueling study session before a big exam when Logan asked the fateful question, “Do you believe in ghosts?” And it just clicked. Of course, he’d always been mildly interested in them, but his passion really took off then. There was a comfort in believing that the chilly breeze in his kitchen wasn’t just an updraft but was actually just his grandmother, gently reminding him to wash the dishes. Or the persistent creak of his bathroom door was his younger brother, asking him to play. He would admit, it was a childish comfort at times but it was a much healthier coping mechanism than what he’d used when he was younger and he would fight anyone who tried to fault him on that.

He liked to fantasize about the ‘guardian angel’ that protected him from afar. Patton liked to think that it kept him away from everything bad and was gently steering him towards everything good. In Patton’s mind, if even one creature was looking out for you then the world seemed much less lonely. It was a mentality he clung to in college, the one that kept him from tipping over the deep end. And now that he was older and more mature it served as a fond memory and a piece of advice to pass down to those who were having as hard a time as he was. To Patton, the supernatural was safe, it was comforting. He didn’t believe that the spirit of a serial killer was in his basement, waiting to murder him in his sleep, he believed that anyone could haunt you, and, more often then not, they just wanted to say hi.

Logan was a little more agnostic. Sure, ghosts, demons and the like seemed cool in theory but in practicality the chances of them being real were small. More often than not any “ghost activity” could be explained away by simple science, and anything that couldn’t, well, Logan liked to believe it was just a science they didn’t understand yet.

Where Patton found comfort in ghosts, Logan found curiosity, infatuation. The world of the supernatural was one he wanted to understand, he wanted to site a ghost and be able to explain what was happening and why. If Logan was being honest, he hoped if he could explain away ghosts, he could explain away his…. quirks. That’s what he chose to call them, at least, because that’s what they were- strange quirks. How else was he to explain how he knew Mr. Santos across the street was going to die the next day when Logan was sixteen? Or his imaginary friend that knew of events Logan wouldn’t learn until highschool when he was six? It was a large puzzle to Logan, one he found himself giddily trying to solve. He knew he didn’t really believe in ghosts but he loved to entertain the idea from time to time, and, if he was being honest, Logan found Patton’s infatuation with it particularly adorable.

Travelling to a haunted house in the middle of the night, though? Not as adorable. And the demon in supposed haunted house? Downright insane, even for Patton.

“But guys! Wouldn’t it be cool to visit this place!” Patton exclaimed with a grin to his unenthused companions. “There’s like a million reports of it being haunted and there’s supposed to be a demon there, guys.” He cried enthusiastically. “A demon!” He repeated for emphasis and threw his hands up.

Patton leaned against his kitchen table, where he had brought up the ghost hunt to his two friends during one of their weekly movie nights. Logan was sitting cross-legged in one of Patton’s chairs, snacking idly on his popcorn while Patton had been rambling, his hand rising to the bridge of his nose when Patton suggested the two go with him. Virgil was right next to him, sitting backwards and leaning on the back of his seat. He kept throwing in a sarcastic comment or two, mostly to keep up the Aesthetic, but, in Patton’s opinion, seemed overall intrigued.

“Isn’t trespassing on private property illegal?” Virgil pointed out. “Normally I’m all for these little adventures but I don’t think I’m a criminal.” He fiddled with the purple and black braided bracelet on his wrist. “Yet.”

“Virgil is right Patton, while this trip does sound exciting I hadn’t planned to get arrested for at least another seven years.” Logan pointed out.

“Only seven?” Virgil muttered.

“No, no, no, it’ll be fine. I contacted the owners a couple weeks ago, as long as you make a reservation beforehand you’re good to go!” Patton said excitedly as Virgil groaned.

“Great, we’re making demons a tourist attraction. Next we’ll be selling tickets for a tour through Hell. Hooray...” Virgil grumbled and Patton giggled.

“Ooh that sounds super fun! Not gonna to lie kiddo, I’d buy a ticket,” Patton said with a playful shrug and Virgil buried his face in his hands.

“Patton, you’re being wooed by these corporate goons,” Virgil moaned and leaned back, falling with a thump against Logan’s lap. “Betrayed by my closest friend. Logan, you’d never leave me for capitalism, would you?”

“I wouldn’t even think about it,” Logan said with a small smile and pat Virgil’s shoulder comfortingly as the man grinned.

“Hell yeah, I have a new best friend now. Patton you’ve been replaced. I’m leaving you for my new, cooler husband Logan,” Virgil said and sat up so he was sitting fully in Logan’s lap with his arms wrapped around Logan’s neck.

“I’ve been abandoned,” Patton cried. “Take me back Virgil, I love you.” He gave Virgil his best puppy dog eyes. Virgil paused, staring back at Patton, who was notorious for his adorable face, even Logan could feel himself cracking under the pressure.

The staredown stretched a couple more seconds, with Patton letting his lip start to quiver and began to bat his eyelashes. “Nah,” Virgil said finally, without breaking eye contact. “I’m good.”

Patton dropped the face and sat back in his chair. “Well, gosh dang, you’ve built up an immunity haven’t you,” He laughed.

“You could say so,” Virgil grinned back and got up off Logan’s lap, choosing to hop up on the table instead.

“You do know there’s a chair right there,” Logan said as Virgil stuck his tongue out.

“Me? Sit? In a chair? I’m not falling for that trick heteros.” He said as the three burst into laughter.

“But seriously guys, will you come with me?” Patton asked once their chuckles ceased, folding his hands across the kitchen and leaning in.

“I don’t know, what about work? You know I’m pulling extra shifts while Moira’s on maternity leave and we all know essay season is, and pardon my pun here, hell for Logan.” Virgil pointed out, the mood in the room sobering up completely.

“We could go on Columbus day weekend, that way Logan has an extra day to do some grading. Even if he doesn’t finish I’m sure his students could wait an extra day or two. And I’ll bribe Terrence with some baked good or even some real money to pick up your extra shift,” Patton offered. “Please?”

“Maybe, but this seems incredibly spontaneous, even for you,” Logan replied. “Any reason for this new ghost busting adventure.” He queried and Patton shrugged.

“No reason, I just knew we had to go, I had one of those weird feelings, ya know” Patton said and Logan knit his brows, he did not ‘know.’

“Please explain?”

“I don’t really know how to, I just felt like something really bad would happen if we didn’t go.” Patton sat up, leaning on the arm of Logan’s chair. “So, will you come?” He clasped his hands together and gave Logan the same puppy dog eyes from before.

“Alright, fine,” He relented quickly, he didn’t even have a fraction of the resistance Virgil did. He shook his head and turned to Virgil, who was suddenly deathly pale, staring at the table like he didn’t even notice they were there. “Are you coming as well?” Virgil didn’t move. “... Virgil?” Virgil snapped his head up, eyes flickering between the three of them violently, his mouth opening and closing.

“Y-yeah, sure.” He stammered, abruptly standing up. “I-I’ll be right back.” He choked and sprinted to the bathroom, leaving a concerned Logan and Patton in his wake. The two shared a worried glance before nodding and jumping from their seats, following where their friend fled.

As soon as he made it, Virgil slammed the bathroom door behind him, making sure it was locked tightly. He gripped the porcelain sink tightly, pulling his shirt so it pressed uncomfortably against his back. He was fine, he’d only imagined the twitch he felt earlier, nothing was wrong, _he was fine he was fine he was **fine**._ A sharp knock on the door startled him from his thoughts and he released his grip as he quickly turned.

“Hey, kiddo?” Patton’s concerned voice said through the door. “Are you okay in there?”

“Yeah, I’m good Pat,” Virgil called back, his voice shaking.

“Are you sure? Because you seemed pretty freaked out back in the kitchen,” Patton retorted softly.

“Virgil, if you are unwell you can talk to us,” Logan’s voice appeared, laced with worry.

“I’m fine guys, just don’t feel well right now.” He paused, his eyes screwed shut. “It’s nothing, you can go.”

“I don’t think that’s advisable-”

“Just go!” Virgil barked, cutting Logan off and he heard the two pairs of footsteps moving away from the door. Virgil sighed, he didn’t mean to snap at them. They just couldn’t see him right now, not like this. Some things in Virgil’s life were not meant for prying eyes, this was one of them.

Virgil opened his eyes, the last traces of dark aura seeping back into his skin. He pulled up his shirt, exposing his pale skin. He ran his hand gingerly over the smooth surface, breathing a sigh of relief, nothing was threatening to break its way to the surface, everything was fine. But that still didn’t quell the paranoia lingering in the back of his head, the last time Virgil had felt a twitch like this had not ended well.

He leaned down, rubbing his eyelids and resting his forehead on the cool surface of the porcelain sink. _Just breathe Virgil, c’mon you can do it._ He took a deep steadying breath and opened his eyes.

Something caught his eye when he did though, something that made his throat close and his heart hammer in his chest. A single black feather lying at his feet. Dread bubbled in Virgil’s stomach, cold and curdling. A wave of nausea coursed through him. Patton was right, something horrible was about to happen, he could just feel it.

o0o

The angel walked the lamp-lit streets with purpose. His shoes clapped rhythmically on the sidewalk, the noise pleasantly in tune with the sounds of cars and rushing wind around him. Rows of buildings stretched out on either side of him, where shadows of people went about their night behind curtained windows. It was a little bit suffocating, how full of energy they were, he hadn’t felt life like this in a couple hundred millennia, back when his home was still whole. The angel had grown used to the silence and now that he was back on Earth their lives made it hard for the angel to breathe.

Angelic energy was familiar, it flowed with his own, intertwining and running alongside each other. When he was younger, he used to let his energies slide along his fingertips with _his_ , the two would swirl together, sometimes mixing, sometimes dancing with each other in intricate moves even he didn’t understand. But they were always in tune. It was the same with the rest of his brothers and his flocks, they were all connected.

Human energy, on the other hand, was anything but. Their forces were jagged and sharp, bouncing off one another harshly and forcing themselves down the angel’s throat. The angel never understood how _he_ could handle living among them, always being suffocated by the weight of their lives. He suspected it had something to do with _his_ strange fascination with mortals, which was something the angel would never understand, but he doubted he would ever know.

To the common passerby he looked as though he were drunk, his eyes unfocused and his steps wobbling and shaky. But each step was carefully calculated, his soul following an energy he hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was faint, but it was there. The familiarity making his heart thump rapidly in excitement, a reaction he could never seem to grow out of.

He had been wandering for weeks. Drifting through various countries, towns, and cities. Stowing away on boats and planes when walking failed him, as he tracked _him_ across the globe. The angel was surprised _he_ hadn’t noticed when he landed on Earth, swooping down in a roman cathedral, showered in a galivant show of divine light, his heavenly blade held high. _He_ always said the angel had a flair for the dramatics. It had terrified the few mortals there and, while it was pretty hilarious, made it a little harder to ask them where _he_ was. Asking anyone if they had seen a demon on this side of the Atlantic was weird enough, doing so after materializing out of thin air probably made both him and the surrounding mortals seem insane. Honestly, he did feel a little crazy, chasing after the past like some middle-aged mortal. It was low, even for him.

But why _he_ was here on Earth with the mortals the angel would never understand. The fact that they would have constantly disappointed Big Brother aside, mortals were unbearably boring and they died way too easily. While morbid, it was true, he had felt at least twenty mortals die in the last hour, not counting any unnatural deaths. It was definitely something to tease Big Brother about later. Not to mention, they were terribly judgey, his heavenly outfit apparently didn’t cut it on Earth so he was forced to change into these terribly plain clothes, there wasn’t any gold on them at _all_. Where was the drama, the excitement! It was so different then the last time he had visited humanity.

He’d taken a small vacation to Earth during the dark ages and another one back during the 17th century, it saddened him to know how much more boring humanity had gotten. He missed the public executions, the duels to the death, the empires that sought domination over the world. The angel had loved it back then, it was like Rome all over again. He sighed, of course _he_ would choose the least interesting time to come to Earth.

He turned another sharp corner, weaving into another suburban street and froze. A new wave of energy coating him from head to toe, seeping into his bones. He felt it now, stronger than ever. _He’s here he’s here he’s here he’s here he’s here,_ his mind screamed at him as the angel turned, facing the tall building. There were so many people in there, the whole building felt alive, thrumming with the communal pulse of their life forces and the loudest beat of them all was _his_.

He couldn’t believe it, after all that time searching… he finally found _him._ His heart pounded with a new kind of nervous excitement, he’d never felt this way before. He was almost too nervous to go in. So many things could go wrong, _he_ could throw him out, scream all the things the angel did that hurt _him_ until everyone within a fifty mile radius knew how horrible the angel really was, _he_ could kill him if _he_ really wanted to. Or, _he_ could do nothing, _he_ could ignore the angel, pretend like he wasn’t even there. The angel liked to pride himself on his resilience, but if he had truly moved on the angel was sure he’d fall apart.

But he couldn’t fail _him_ again, if he didn’t warn _him_ it was more than just _his_ home on the line, it was _his_ life. He took a deep breath, no matter what happened, the only thing that mattered now was that the angel kept _him_ alive and safe.

He opened the building door and entered the small lobby, to his right sat a middle aged man in a blue vest over a grey t-shirt, who, honestly, looked like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. His brown hair was unkempt and his beard was covered in dirt and had bits of food sticking out of it. He was eating small fluorescent orange snacks out of an equally obnoxious bag, eyes trained on the screen in front of him as he watched a show in some foreign language, he thought it was Japanese but he wasn’t sure, language had always been more of Uriel’s sort of thing.

“Residents only buddy, can I see some ID?” The man’s monotone voice asked and god, he could smell his breath from across the room, had that man ever heard of a toothbrush? Or even some mouthwash, Jesus Christ.

“I’m just visiting,” He choked out, hand over his mouth as he hurried up the stairs, desperate to escape the putrid smells as he ignored the man’s protests. Once he was safely out of the danger zone he relaxed. His whole body felt alive with a feeling he couldn’t describe, he knew it was the home stretch of his journey. He let his body go on autopilot, blindly scouring the different floors as _his_ life force drew closer.

Memories accompanied the feeling, memories of midnight picnics in Eden, or impromptu concerts as the angel sang with Heman and his choir, of afternoons in Harahel’s grand library, reading the day away, or of lazy mornings in the gardens of the angel’s brothers, or even of light hearted duels in the armory, constantly challenging the other to be better. He longed for it, he longed for _him_. It caught the angel by surprise, how intensely he missed his comrade, how the pain of being a Fighter without a Cause settled in his chest in a persistent throbbing. But it had been too long, too many people had been hurt, too many bonds were broken and there was no longer time to repair them, and while the angel hated that this was how they would have their reunion, he knew there was no other way.

It was on the sixth floor that he found _him_ , twenty seven steps to the right, door number 372. All it took was a simple thought and the door unlocked, welcoming the angel inside. He paused at the doorway, forcing himself to take a few steadying breaths, whatever _he_ had planned for the angel, he would be ready.

The angel slowly stepped inside, _his_ life force hitting him like a tidal wave, knocking the air from his chest. He slapped a hand against the wall to keep himself from collapsing as several traitorous tears slid down his cheeks. _He_ wasn’t there at the moment but there was so much of _him_ here that the angel knew _he’d_ return, _he_ had too. He stumbled into the kitchen and sat down, gripping the sides of the black stool that sat around _his_ island counter. He covered his mouth, letting himself silently sob as he imagined _his_ life force wrapping itself around him, blanketing him in its warmth. Just like _he_ used to do all those years ago

 _Oh Virgil,_ He thought as he closed his eyes and released a shuddering breath. _How I’ve missed you._

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so here's me basically reinventing GA. I'm a lot happier with this version than the last and I hope you guys will too!


End file.
